Change of Perspective
by EllieMurasaki
Summary: Missing moment from GoF 9, spoilers for DwD 32. There were a lot of spells being cast after the Quidditch World Cup...and sometimes spells go wrong in weird ways...


Disclaimer: Except for bits borrowed with permission from whydoyouneedtoknow, this is Jo Rowling's beach, and she has been kind enough to allow persons such as myself to play here. All I'm laying claim to is the design of this sand castle.

Note: This story is a missing moment from _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_, in a manner of speaking. It is also dedicated to and one in the eye for my brother, because he claims I am incapable of completing any stories I begin to write. (Though, in all fairness, this is the first one-shot I have ever written. I didn't know I could do it either.)

**Change of Perspective**

by MercuryBlue

Harry turned over in bed and, noticing that this made the line of green light from the edge of the window flap fall across his arm, moved till he could see the face of his watch. _Quarter past four. Lovely._

_I **wish** I knew what was going on. **Why** did someone cast the Dark Mark? Who did it? How did he—or she, got to be fair, could be a she—get hold of my wand to do it? Was he trying to make it look like I did it, or was I just the first person he ran across whose wand he could steal without its owner noticing? **Was** it one of those Death Eaters who cast it, to tell us they're back in business, or was it someone trying to tell them Voldemort wouldn't be happy with them for playing games with Muggles and not trying to help him?_

_I love knowing nothing at all. I really do._

Harry turned over again, looking up at the canvas ceiling of the Weasley tent. _And I'm not going to get any answers anytime soon, am I?_

Unfortunately, admitting that did not keep questions from pounding through his head.

Harry sat up, suddenly feeling a desperate need for fresh air. He slid to the floor, somehow managing to avoid hitting the snoring Ron in the bunk below his own. Once at the window, he pushed aside the canvas flap, taking deep breaths of the cool night air and enjoying the light breeze on his face.

There were a pair of wizards visible several feet away by one of the trees, doing something involving purple light. Whatever it was, it probably had to do with the Dark Mark, which was clearly still illuminating the woods even though the trees blocked Harry's view of it. The taller of the two wizards had longish dark hair, like Sirius's.

_I wonder has Sirius gotten my letter yet? It'd be nice to know that my scar hurting the other day doesn't actually have anything to do with Voldemort being anywhere near here. Last I heard, he's in Albania._

_I wish Sirius was here—no, no I don't, if he was here he'd be arrested again—well, if I could be sure he wouldn't be, then yeah, I wish he was here. For the same reasons I wrote him a couple days ago—he knows about Dark magic, I don't think he'd mind answering all my questions that he knows answers for, and he's the nearest thing to a dad that I've got._

Just then, a muffled BANG! sounded from the direction of the two wizards, who were promptly enveloped in smoke that had a faint violet glow to it. The smoke shot away from them almost at once, probably forced by a spell. Of course, given the direction of the breeze, this put it right in Harry's face. He slapped the window flap closed, but not before getting a lungful and doubling over coughing.

"Sorry, I'm sorry—" said a voice right outside. Probably one of those two wizards, but Harry was coughing too much to care. "That shouldn't have happened—no idea what did happen, but it shouldn't have—should check my wand, it might've got a hairline fracture and I didn't notice—are you all right in there?"

"Just—ducky," Harry managed between coughs. "Go 'way—take that—smoke with you."

The window flap blew open, and yet more of the smoke came in, but it was dispersing rapidly both inside and out, thanks to the wind, which was apparently directed by one or the other of those wizards. Harry managed to get a deep breath, then exhaled, which got a good amount of the smoke out of his lungs and let the cough ease up. Two more similarly deep breaths, and the cough was entirely gone, though he was beginning to feel oddly hot, as if he was getting a fever.

"You sure you're all right in there?" asked another voice, and a concerned face appeared at the window.

"Perfectly fine and dandy," Harry snapped back. "Would you _please_ go away now? And whatever you did to make that smoke, please don't do it again." He slapped the window flap shut again, took the two steps back to the end of the bunk, and clambered up it as if it was a ladder. Twice he had to pause to be sure the wood was where it looked like it was, because the room was starting to spin and was turning pretty colors.

_Not good._

Harry finally cleared the rail and flopped onto the bunk, where it didn't matter how much the room spun, provided it didn't spin too fast, because down would remain down. Provided he stayed still, of course, but he wasn't exactly planning on moving...

...odd, he seemed to be standing...leaning on something...he'd definitely been lying down a minute before...shivering...why am I shivering, it's hot, not cold...

Someone was talking...a woman with a nice voice...musical... "...ione can...have a quick err...we go home...getting ill, but...and Meghan should...home."

"Very well, then." That was someone else...a man...also not someone he knew...

...someone was picking him up...strong arms...put me down, put me _down_...not working...dark squashed can't breathe _air need air_...can breathe again...going down...lying on something hard...something light over him...

"Sorry, cub..." ...know that voice...touch on cheek... "...back soon, promise..."

Man's voice..._know_ that voice...who is it? Room still pretty colors and going in circles...head hurts...not helpful...where is this? Never been here before...have I?...haven't..._weird_...

Cool hand on forehead. Another on chest. Colors going away. That's good. Room spinning slower. That's good too. Whose hands...ah, girl. Never seen her before. Pretty girl. Younger'n me. Black braids. Gray eyes.

"Sit down and be _quiet_, I'm trying to work here!"

Who're you talking to? What're you doing?

"Your brother, and trying to make you feel better."

Not working.

"It should, it should at least help some..."

Am I talking out loud?

"Yes you are. Now hush and let me work."

Fine, I'll hush.

Not on floor anymore. Almost feels like flying. On something soft now.

Still not working, whatever she's up to. Been a few minutes and head still hurts and room's still spinning and still all sorts of pink and orange and purple and blue. Blue mostly around her. Weird. Hey, that hand's _cold!_

"What'd I do?" Cold hand removed. Better. "I'm just trying to help—you have to hold still—"

Cold hand back. Get it off me. No, I don't want you touching me! It's too bloody hot in here anyway.

"Let's get you uncovered, then." Lady from before. Really nice voice. Pretty lady. Looks like that girl, but darker and brown eyes. Don't know her either. Don't _like_ this. "And it's time for you to get into your pajamas."

I'm not in pajamas? Thought I was in pajamas. Don't want pajamas.

"Too bad."

Fight you.

"You can fight me later. You're getting into your pajamas now."

No.

"Yes."

I don't _like_ anyone seeing me in nothing but my underwear—hey, you used your wand! Cheater. No fair.

"Life's not fair." Clothes coming back on...oh, pajamas. "There, isn't that more comfortable?"

No. Coulda left me alone.

"Fine, then it's not. Is there something you want I can get you?"

No. Go away.

"In a moment." _Cold_ hand—gone. "That's what I thought. Harry, who am I?"

How should I know? Never saw you before. Funny noise across the room...somebody's cat or something...

"Do you know me, Harry?" Familiar voice, same one from before...should know that voice...face to go with it—_Sirius! _No, shouldn't be here. You shouldn't...not safe...you'll be arrested again...shouldn't've wished you could be here, should I?

"He's delirious." Lady again. "His fever's confused him. Stay with him, I'm going to get him some potions."

Don't like potions. Don't like Snape. He's a bastard.

"Probably is." Sirius again.

You don't like him either. You let him hit his head. And he doesn't like you. He wouldn't listen. I hexed him. Ron'n'H'mione helped. Remember? He smashed into the wall and fell down when we all hit him at the same time...

"Sounds like it must have been fun. Now, Harry, Snape didn't have anything to do with these potions. This is Letha. Can you say hi to her?"

I'm fourteen, not four...fine, I'll say hi. Hi. There, said it, happy?

"Hello, Harry. As you said, you're not a baby anymore. So you can tell that you're ill right now."

Hot, thirsty, head hurts, can't talk right...no, I'd never have guessed.

"These potions will help you get better. Will you take them?"

Green and purple and orange potions in little bottles. Swear Snape didn't make them? Won't let them near me if he did...

"I made them. Severus Snape has never been near them."

All right. Hey, Sirius is looking at her funny—Letha, her name's Letha—oh oh _oh_. You _like_ her. Don't you?

"Yes, I do. I like her a lot."

You gonna marry her? Be nice if he did...she looks like a nice lady...and if he does, then I can go live with them, and if the Ministry's still after him then he can yip at them and look adorable and they'll go away again...

"Maybe. Come on, Harry, you need to sit up to take these. I'll help you."

Don't need help...can't get up...don't need help...can't get up..._don't_ need help...yeah, I do...

Don't want to need help, but need help. Feels kind of nice when Sirius helps. There, sitting up now. Wait a second—_Malfoy!_ What's _he_ doing here?

"He's ill too. Now take this, please. It will help you feel better."

Don't like him. I'm gonna go hit him. Stupid little ponce. Or I'll get Hermione to hit him again. She hit him once pretty good. It was funny. She hit him right in front of everyone. Just smacked him right across the face.

"Drink this, now. Or I will make you."

Fine, fine. Maybe it wouldn't be so good if Sirius married her, she can get grouchy. Where'd he get the cat? I didn't think he had a cat. Cute cat, though, calico pattern...leave off, I'll do it, I'm not a baby, I can drink on my own...hm. Cherry. Doesn't taste bad. Tastes good. Not like most of Madam Pomfrey's...

...weird, now there's nothing at all...

Wait a minute, what am I doing back in the tent? Coulda sworn I was just in a room with actual walls and ceiling...where's Sirius? Where'd Sirius go? And Letha, and the girl who looks like her...hell, even Malfoy and the calico kitty...where'd everyone go? And what's with all the snoring...sounds like a freight train going through here...

...oh, just Ron. I'm in the Weasleys' tent. I'm not hot or headachy. Must've been sweating, though, the sheets are soaked. Everything is the color it usually is in the dark, and nothing is spinning. It's the night after the Quidditch World Cup, Ireland won, Death Eaters attacked, the Dark Mark went up, the Death Eaters left, and it is—half past four in the morning.

I think we can safely file that under 'Weirdest Dreams I've Ever Had'.

xXxXx

It was two days later when Harry, flipping idly through his photo album, spotted the dark woman in his parents' wedding picture and realized that her face was exactly that of the gray-eyed girl, except that this woman was older and darker. On the heels of that thought came another, that it was also the face of the dark woman he'd dreamed of, the one Sirius _liked_ liked (or was that just in the dream?). Letha, that was her name.

_I wonder what happened to her, that I've only seen her in that dream..._

But as with the other figures in that picture—all but James and Lily Potter themselves—unless and until this Letha came into his life as Sirius and Professor Lupin had done, she would never be more to Harry than a face in a dream.

A/N: Reviews are good. Flames are bad. Praise is nice. Constructive criticism is preferred. Questions are welcomed. Proper grammar is appreciated. Email addresses are required if you want a reply. Clear enough?


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